Work Reviewed: Montgomery, Sy. Soul of an Octopus: A Surprising Exploration into the Wonder of Consciousness.* Atria Books, 2015.
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. To provide total transparency over which hyperlinks are affiliated, I’ll mark all affiliate hyperlinks with an asterisk (*) at the end.
Introduction
What makes humans call something a monster? Would eight legs, flesh-dissolving saliva, and a bite full of neurotoxins qualify? Sy Montgomery’s Soul of an Octopus invites us to think beyond these fright-night features and put ourselves in the shoes (all eight of them!) of a remarkable class of creatures: octopuses. Follow the lives of invertebrates Octavia, Kali, and Karma, whose walnut-sized brains and neuron-filled arms captivate and challenge researchers and aquarium guests alike.
Content Warnings*
- Animal deaths
- Self harm
*This is not a comprehensive list of all potential triggers in the Soul of an Octopus. I encourage you to assess for yourself whether each of the works is appropriate for you and/or your audience.
Summary and Analysis
Chapter 1: Athena
Sy Montgomery’s work opens with an important point. Historically, humans have minimized emotion and intelligence in other species, especially those that appear very different from us. The author cites legends from various times and places that depict the octopus as a kind of sea monster, from Pliny the Elder’s Natural Histories to the sagas of Iceland. Indeed, even now, this animal’s eight limbs, powerful suckers, and noxious bite inspire fear in many.
Rather than closing ourselves off to what we fear, Soul of an Octopus invites us to “think like a monster.” Montgomery begins to do just that in her first interactions with Athena, a giant Pacific octopus residing at the New England Aquarium. On their first meeting, Athena nearly pulls the author into her tank. Thankfully, this is more an act of curiosity than aggression. In a prelude of things to come, Athena’s age begins to catch up with her, and soon another young octopus is on its way to the aquarium to take her place.
Chapter 2: Octavia
Octavia arrives as a shy, wild-born octopus whose camouflage abilities are on full display as she begins to investigate her surroundings. She accomplishes her color changes by the opening and closing of chromatophores on the surface of her skin, and can alter the shape of her body by the projection of papillae. She soon charms her caretakers with her abilities, distracting them to the point that she’s able to steal a bucket of fish out from under their noses. All of this is accomplished with a walnut size brain of 50 to 75 lobes and countless neurons that are distributed throughout not just her brain, but her limbs.
Octavia’s behavior is an example of the challenges inherent in trying to display and study wild animals. The author recounts the attempts of researchers to train electric eels to display themselves, luring them with food and hooking up an electric light bulb to the tank so visitors can see it flash whenever the eels use their powers. Dealing with octopuses is even more challenging, as a group of students researching the animals reported to Montgomery. Their days were spent attempting to herd octopuses through the lab, chasing down runners, jumpers, and splashers.
Yet octopuses have a relatively short life span. All too soon, Octavia begins showing signs of senescence, losing her focus and appearing in her tank as though her flesh is beginning to dissolve.
Chapter 3: Kali
With Octavia fading away, the aquarium orders a new octopus for display. To welcome Kali, the new octopus, the aquarium hosts a ‘cephaloparty,’ which attracts a variety of visitors. Many of these humans themselves feel misunderstood, and so, find a particular kind of kinship with animals. The therapeutic value of time with animals is emphasized throughout this work, as several of the aquarium’s staff and guests deal with various forms of loss. The potential for such rich relationships inspires the author to consider buying an octopus of her own to install in a tank at home. This is a concerning thought considering that many of these animals are taken directly from their homes in the wild. Thankfully, over the years, there has been a move towards naturalistic displays with more and more creative forms of enrichment, even for invertebrates, who were previously considered not to need such stimulation.
There is no doubt, either, that the staff of the aquarium are dedicated to the well being of their charges. The author writes of the bond between the many animals at the aquarium and their caretakers, describing an anaconda curling up in a Keeper’s lap, and the ability of one worker to smell when the fish under his charge were experiencing stress. She argues that each of these animals is responding to empathy. Whereas a casual observer might assume an approaching Anaconda to be dangerous, the caretakers who work with these individuals every day learn to read their moods and approach with openness to the experience.
Here, the author brings in an idea from ancient philosopher Anaxagoras, who conceived of a common intellectual energy called nous in Ancient Greek, or ‘mind,’ that all beings have a share of. She discusses the studies suggesting that octopuses, dogs, and other animals have a theory of mind; that is, they can conceive of the idea that someone else might know something that they do not, and vice versa. Human toddlers famously struggle with this, for example, assuming that other people will know a piece of information disclosed only to the toddler.
Chapter 4: Eggs
Chapter 4 opens with a poignant image: The dying Octavia guarding over a chain of eggs. This is the last job in a female octopus’s life, and she will starve in order to maintain a constant watch on her brood. In the wild, the octopus would eventually use her siphon to blow the babies out of the eggs, through the entrance to the den, and out into the open ocean, where they wander together with other small life forms.
Octavia will never have this duty. Though octopuses can store sperm for a few months, she has been in captivity so long that it is impossible for these eggs to be fertile. The juxtaposition of life and death in Octavia’s tank leads to a surge of emotion from her visitors and caretakers. Guests are at first charmed at the idea of a new mother, then saddened to hear that her eyes will not be fertile. Indeed, the egg soon begin to shrink, and Octavia herself shows more and more signs of impending death. This state of affairs also leads to reflections on loss among Octavia’s human friends, including a discussion from the author on the Buddhist idea of self/not-self.
At the end of life, the self may dissolve into eternity like salt in the ocean. To some, this might seem distressing. But to lose the lonely self in the ocean of eternity could also be a release, and enlightenment, as the mystics promise.
page 113
Chapter 5: Transformation
The title of Chapter 5 seems to refer both to the transformation of Octavia as she moves from life to death, and to the transformation of the author as she learns to scuba dive. Montgomery enters an alien world to battle the challenges of heavy gear, painful ear damage, and cold shock responses. But the awe-inducing experience of seeing an octopus in the wild takes the author beyond the usual limits of her experience of the self in a way that makes the difficulties worthwhile.
Chapter 6: Exit
As Octavia comes closer to the end of her life, Kali continues to grow inside of the barrel that serves as her temporary home. It is disturbing to think of such a curious and active creature being confined to such a small space. For this reason, Kali’s caretakers move her to a larger enclosure, taking precautions to make sure that she cannot escape or hurt herself. This is a common risk with octopuses, whose intelligence, curiosity, and flexibility often defy humans’ attempts to contain them.
Unthinkably, the chapter ends with the death not of Octavia, but of Kali, who escapes the new enclosure and is found dying on the floor. Attempts to revive her are unsuccessful, and her caretakers try to take comfort in the idea that she died “like an explorer.” This painful narrative shift comes as a poignant reminder of all the things in life that we cannot control or predict.
Chapter 7: Karma
Questions abound in the aftermath of Kali’s death. Why couldn’t she reach the water in her enclosure? Did she poison herself by touching the antimicrobial-covered mat at the entrance, placed there ironically to protect the aquarium’s inhabitants from outside contaminants? It is not clear, and never will be.
Kali’s unexpected death prompts a discussion of the difficulties of transporting and keeping wild animals. Montgomery notes several cases of animal deaths in customs. The researchers around her justify such deaths, and captivity in general, by framing the animals as “ambassadors from the wild” who educate and inspire empathy in humans for nature.
They also make the argument that such animals tend to live longer lives in captivity, but there is no mention of Kali’s premature death, or the other animals killed in transport, in that calculation. This brings up the question: how much do humans have to know about an animal in order to care about them? Can it ever be enough to know simply that another being exists and suffers, or does that suffering have to be made present for us, often at the cost of more suffering?
As Kali’s caretakers come to terms with her death, a new octopus called Karma is already being prepped for display. The researcher who named her was thinking of the concept of fate when he chose the name, but the author points out that karma is really about choice, and the consequences that stem from it. This observation weighed heavily on me in light of the many decisions that led to Kali’s death, and gives new weight to the title Soul of an Octopus.
Chapter 8: Consciousness
Karma is just as bored in her barrel as Kali was. But this time, rather than risk another escape, the aquarium staff move Karma into Octavia’s enclosure, and place Octavia in the barrel. Her tentacles wander aimlessly, and one of her eyes is grotesquely swollen. The group says their goodbyes, and four weeks later, she is gone. In the meantime, the author continues to dive for octopuses in the wild. A particular dive spot near Sydney dubbed ‘octopolis’ showcases the kind of bond and recognition that is possible between humans and octopuses. Divers are recognized, greeted, and shown around.
Soul of an Octopus ends with a conversation between some visitors and researchers on a similar theme:
‘Does it know you?’ a middle-aged man with a moustache asks, incredulous.
page 241
‘Of course she does,’ we answer.
This sums up the major point of Montgomery’s work. Karma and her kin are not an unfeeling “it,” but sentient beings with their own minds, temperaments, and personalities. The natural question that follows for this reviewer, then, is: how do we balance the wish to know these beings better with the ethical imperative not to cause them further harm?
This review of Soul of an Octopus is part of the free 2024 Octopus Trio discussion and study materials. Get your copy here, and follow me on Patreon for access to a new trio of selections each month, including access to all previous materials.
